The Intern in the Institution
by like-lions
Summary: Once Zack entered the institution, he thought he would be forgotten. Boy, was he wrong. Many plot twists await. Zack-centric.
1. Prologue

_**The Intern in the Institution: Prologue**_

_Many of us crucify ourselves between two_

_thieves: regret for the past and fear for the future._

"Five, four, three, two, one! Ready or not, here I come!" the young boy said, running towards the unknown building next door with a flashlight. Seeing a rustling in the bushes surrounding it, he screamed out, "Hey, no fair! We said no hiding near the building!"

"What are you talking about?" another voice called out, coming from the tree in the boys' backyard. "Are you going to the other side of the fence? Mom said we can't go over there! Remember: 'it's a nuthouse'."

"You should be one to talk, you're the one hiding right next to it. Wait 'til I tell Mom, she's gonna be so mad!" the first boy said, edging towards the bushes, pulling them away in one sweep. "Gotcha!"

A scream shot out as he dropped his flashlight and ran towards the fence.

"Johnny, go get mom! Go get mom!"

"What?" the other boy said, walking over to the bush, finding an eroded skeleton, it's remaining flesh being ridden of by a raccoon.

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"So what have we got?" Agent Booth said, walking into one of the large rooms of the Jeffersonian. Brennan and Hodgins were hovering over the skeleton, removing whatever flesh was left over. "Oh, god, I told you not to call me until all the gooey parts were gone..."

"What gooey parts?" Doctor Temperance Brennan asked, examining what was left of the skeleton's right hand. "No part of the human body is called 'gooey'. Slimy, maybe, but not gooey."

"Yeah, whatever. But in all serious, what have we got? My boss is getting on my ass for not solving enough cases lately, and I need to impress."

"Male. No sign of exact cause of death yet. More like a smorgasbord of murder tactics," Hodgins said. "But I can tell you someone smashed this guy's teeth in and made sure he didn't leave any evidence. Cut off his finger tips, so no ID from that. Not that a decomposing body would have enough flesh on it to make a proper ID."

"According to decomp, he died approximately three months ago..." Brennan said. "But he was found next to a heating duct, so he could have died as recently as two, three days ago."

"Wait. Heating duct," Booth said, his face lighting up. "You mean—This is the McKinley Mental Institute guy?"

"You seem a little too excited about that," Hodgins joked.

"No, no, this is the body that Parker's friend Johnny and his brother Hunter found. It's all Parker's been talking about."

"Are the police talking to the boys who found the body? Why were they going to a mental hospital? Is Parker friends with sociopathic second graders?" Hodgins said, his face dead serious.

"No..." Booth said, annoyed, "No! Johnny and Hunter were playing hide and go seek. They live next door."

"I can't imagine why anyone would want to live next door to a mental hospital," Bones said, her eyes focused on the neck of the victim. "And why their parents wouldn't set up a more reliable fence to keep them in."

"And the psychos in," Hodgins said.

"Well you should be one to talk," Booth said, grabbing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from his briefcase and taking a bite. "You're the one that was living with one for years."

"You know what, screw you!" Hodgins said, standing up straight and preparing to leave. "I told you not to talk about that."

"Hodgins, wait."

"What?" Hodgins said, annoyed until he saw what Dr. Brennan was holding in between her small set of tweezers. "A tooth. A canine too."

"It came from a dog?" Booth said, still chowing down on his sandwich, his chewing obviously irritating Hodgins.

"No, you idiot," Hodgins retorted.

"I was asking Bones, but thanks," Booth said, sarcastically.

"No, this is definitely human. Clean too," she said, holding it to the light.

"So someone _cleaned_ the guy's tooth and then shoved it back into his jaw?" Booth asked, with a shiver.

"It might be a his signature..." Hodgins said, taking the tooth from Brennan. "It looks well-preserved...we might be able to get DNA from the pulp inside the tooth and find out who this guy is."

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Booth, Bones, Hodgins, Angela, Cam, Sweets and even Wendell gathered 'round to see the results of the DNA test. Word had gotten around that he had been found next to a mental hospital and everyone wanted to see if it was a patient...or an employee.

Sweets walked over to Hodgins and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I heard you snapped at Booth today," Sweets said, in his usual know-it-all tone.

"I didn't snap at him, I merely told him to step off," Hodgins said, nonchalantly.

"I know Zack is still a sensitive topic for you, and I know that this case is bringing up all the pain again, but you're projecting."

"Okay, Sweets? Just cram it. I was just annoyed. Not everything needs to be psycho-analyzed," Hodgins said. But the truth was, he knew he wasn't over the Zach ordeal a year and a half earlier. It felt like just yesterday to him, and he couldn't get around it. Not that he'd tell the suit pants wearing know-it-all, though.

"And the victim is..." Cam said, looking at the screen as it was loading, and tapping her legs like a drumroll. Then the file came up on the screen. She still had to click on it to see the information, but she took the opportunity to milk the situation and say, "Well, at least we know he's in the system. He's either been convicted of a crime, or he's served in the—"

"Get on with it already!" Wendell called out, his hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone.

She clicked the picture and...silence.

It was of their beloved ex-squint: Zackary Addy.

_I suck, I know. xD Don't worry, this story has much more depth to it than what you see on the surface, I promise. Oh, and the quote at the beginning belongs to Fulton Oursler, and I will be including quotes/lyrics at the beginning of each chapter to foreshadow parts of the story. :D Review for more! 3_

_P.S: I don't own Bones. If I did, I'd be driving around in a new Mercedes, not a leased Hyundai._


	2. Chapter One

_**The Intern in the Institution: Chapter One**_

_Every man has his sorrows which the world knows not;_

_and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad._

The silence in the meeting room was deafening. The only noise to be heard came from the computer that was holding the picture of Zack for all to see. The eyes of formerly unknown people suddenly drifted to the Squint Squad. Like a civilian paying his respects for a fallen soldier to his army buddies, they were looking for some sort of reaction. Any sign of weakness so they wouldn't have to be the ones to break the ice.

"No, no, no."

The curly blonde haired man started chanting, almost ruthlessly hoping that if he kept denying what he had just heard that it wouldn't be true.

"It can't be him," Hodgins kept insisting. "Sweets, tell 'em, you visited him yesterday, right? It can't be him if you saw him yesterday."

The tall brunette man standing next to him remained silence. A mix of shame and sadness grew on his face.

"I...I...I haven't been visiting him lately. It's been a while since I checked up on him. The orderlies said they could handle it, that they'd assign him a new—"

"How long," Hodgins said, as Angela—while choking back tears of her own—tried to calm him down, "When was the last time you saw him?"

Usually Hodgins would be much more suspicious of having everyone be listening in on his conversations.

Usually he wouldn't be dealing with grief over losing his best friend.

"Six months."

Hodgins stormed out, into one of the offices lined up along the walls, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Hodgins!" Cam said, chasing after him. The rest of the team looked up at Brennan, almost waiting for a signal that it was okay to go after him too.

But she didn't look up. She looked like she was confused as to why she wasn't as sad as the others. Why she didn't seem like she was holding back tears, and why she didn't want to go comfort Hodgins.

The rest of them went after him, anyway, with Brennan hesitantly following with Booth.

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"Jack!" Angela said, following him through the crowded room to the phone on the opposite side. "Jack, you need to take a moment and let this set in before you do something crazy."

"That's not in my nature," he retorted, while viciously bashing numbers into the telephone receiver, and holding up a single finger to shut the rest of them up, and putting the phone on speaker.

"McKinley Mental Hospital, this is Leslie speaking, how may I help you?" an overly perky voice on the other line asked.

"Yes, this is Jack Hodgins," he said, tapping his foot on the ground. "I'm calling about Zack Addy. He's one of your patients."

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, we don't keep records on our past residents, they're passed on to the circuit courts upon release."

"Release?"

"Yes, sir!" Leslie said, still holding true to her chipper demeanor. "He was checked out by the U.S. District Attorney's office about six months ago. You weren't aware?"

"No...no, I wasn't. Thanks for your help."

"Oh, no problem sir, and have a merry, merry McKinley medical day!"

There were shocked faces all around, and for a moment, Brennan found some resolve that she was able to express some emotion and wasn't turning into an ironically dramatic sociopath.

"What do you know about this?" Hodgins asked, which everyone could tell was directed at Booth. After all, he always talked about trying to maintain his reputation with the United States Justice System. Why should Hodgins put not telling them about Zack's whereabouts above him?

"Look, I know this looks bad, but I swear to you, I know nothing about this. If I did, I would surely have words to say to whoever made the choice to let a convicted murderer out on the street," Booth said, knowing full well that deep down Zack was innocent.

"Agent Booth, I'll have to ask you to try to have the least bit of sensitivity about this," Cam said, her face changed from sad to worried.

"Look, I'm just stating a fact. He was convicted, and he was put in that nut house for a reason."

"Just shut the hell up, will 'ya?" Hodgins said, the wheels in his head turning. "I have an idea..."

Hodgins reached for the phone again and took it off of speaker. He held it to his head and cleared his throat.

"Hello, this is Daisy, an intern at the Jeffersonian. There have been some recent revelations about a former employee, and I was wondering if you could answer some of my questions. Yes. Yes, I will hold," Hodgins said, in a high pitched, perky voice, reminiscent of Daisy and the always jolly Leslie from McKinley Mental Hospital.

"What are you doing?!" Sweets said, reaching for the phone. "Identity theft is a federal offense!"

"Relax," Hodgins said, while holding his palm to the speaker on the phone. "I'm not stealing her identity, I'm simply using it to get what I want."

"Does he not know the definition of identity theft?" Sweets said, breathing heavily through his mouth.

"Shhhh!" Hodgins said, returning back to his female voice and identity once the hold music stopped. "Yes, I'm still here. Yes, we here at the Jeffersonian recently learned that a former assistant to Dr. Brennan, Zack Addy, is presumed dead. Now, I'm not one to talk about this—I've only been here since he's been gone—but my heart really goes out to him, and I'd like to know if he's with you. Well, the hospital said he was released into the custody of the DA's office, so I thought I'd call you. That doesn't happen often, I presume, and—"

"What the hell," Hodgins said, lowering his voice. "The line was cut."

Booth's phone began to ring.

"I knew it! I knew you had something to do with this!"

"Calm down, okay," Booth said, picking up the phone, "It might not even be about that. It could just be the luck of the draw."

"A gambling reference?" Dr. Brennan said, trying to be heard within the conversation once again.

"No, no, it's not a—Yes! District Attorney Collins, nice to hear from you. What do I have the—Oh, okay..."

Booth held the phone up and hit the speaker button.

"Hello everyone, it's Janice Collins, District Attorney speaking. Are you alone?"

"As alone as you can get with the Squint Squad here, ma'am," Booth said, his face turned into a joking smile.

"I don't even know what that means," Brennan said.

"Of course, you don't, Bones. Nice to have you back."

"Well, I don't think this is proper to have this conversation over the phone. I'm in the area, and if you wouldn't mind taking some time out of your surely busy schedules, I'd like to have a meeting with you."

The Squint's eyes turned to Cam.

"How can I resist?" Cam said, jokingly.

"You can't," Miss Collins said. "I'll be there within the hour. Please be ready to have a long conversation when I arrive. In a private place. It's a matter of national security. Thank you. Goodbye."

The line clicked.

"Weird..." Sweets said, uttering his first word in minutes, which was certainly out of character for him.

"Yeah, you should be one to talk," Hodgins said to Sweets. "Here's a tip: Try breathing out of your nose for once."

_Whoa'kay. I'll cut it off there. I'm in the middle of writing the next chapter, and it'll be completed within an hour or two. If you want me to post it, I need at least one review. I've gotten maybe two story alerts, one author alert and one favorite story, but no reviews. And while encouraging, I need to know that someone's willing to comment, even if it's just a kind word or two. So please review, and save a polar bear. Quote by Henry Ladsworth Longfellow. _

_P.S.: All of this is made up, and I own nothing but Miss Collins. So far._

_Be prepared for a plot twist. :D_


	3. Chapter Two

_**The Intern in the Institution: Chapter Two**_

_I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice._

"This couldn't be more freaky," Angela said, uttering her first words in what seemed like forever—to her at least.

Everyone around her nodded as they moved into a smaller, more secluded office within the walls of the Jeffersonian. Something suddenly clicked for Hodgins as they paced around, anxiously awaiting Miss Janice Collins, District Attorney, to tell them something—anything about Zack.

"Did the DA tell you anything before you put the phone on speaker?" Hodgins asked Booth, whose face was slowly turning opague, as he tried to hide it by putting his hand over it.

"No. Nothing of importance, at least," Booth said, scratching his hair and neck nervously. "All she said was I might need to pick up the pace on the collars', that's all."

"I don't understand," Dr. Brennan said, taking a seat on one of the sofas in the room.

"I haven't been turning in enough criminals. Maybe this one'll count for something," Booth said.

"Hey, what's your problem? All you've been doing today is patronizing me, bringing up Zack, and generally trying to piss me off. I get that Rebecca is being snippy about the time you spend with Parker, but you need to let off! I haven't been the one projecting around here, Sweets."

"Hey, hey, hey," Booth said, stretching his legs. "That's out of bounds. Off limits. Okay, bug boy?"

"So you get to pick and choose what's off limits and what's not?" Hodgins said, squinting his eyes.

"Since I have the gun," Booth said, with a smirk.

"Oh, very mature, why don't you take that gun and shove it up your—" Hodgins said, before he was cut off.

"Guys: This is not the time, nor the place to be fighting over such stupid little things. We have to remember what we're trying to find out here," Cam said, breaking the two apart.

"Speaking of where..." Sweets said, interjecting. "Why must we have this discussion in _my_ office? It's certainly not the most private."

"It was the closest and it has curtains," everyone said, at once.

"Where is this woman? I don't care what kind of attorney she is, she's late and that's all there is to it!" Wendell said, holding his head up high.

"I'm right here," Janice Collins said, throwing her briefcase onto a nearby sofa. "Wonder if you would've had the balls to say that to my face."

"Um, Miss, Miss Collins," Wendell stammered. "I didn't notice you—"

"Save it, kid," she said. "We've actually got important business to discuss."

She sat down, but didn't seem rushed to take out any paperwork, or even say anything about Zack, his whereabouts, or even his current status. She just sat down with her legs crossed and fiddled with her shoulder-length brunette hair.

"So?" Hodgins asked, quickly getting irritated.

"So, what?" Janice said, with a small smile.

"What do you have to tell us? You said it was so important that you couldn't talk about it over the phone, so what are you going to tell us?" Hodgins said, struggling to get all the right words out, and trying not to choke up.

"Oh! That."

"What do you mean, "that"? A man's dead, or he might be dead, or he might be dying, and you are acting like you accidentally left a casserole in the oven. "Oh! That."" Hodgins spoke up.

"Well, excuse me. And why's it got to be a casserole in the oven? Are you a sexist, Dr. Hodgins? Are you?" Janice said.

"Seriously, stop that."

"Well what do you want to know about Zack?" Janice said, with a smirk.

"First off: Is he dead or alive?" Angela asked.

"Alive," Janice said, while pulling a nail file out of her briefcase.

"Why was he checked out of McKinley Mental Institution?" Cam asked.

"He was a part of a governmental project, and we needed him," Janice said, beginning to file her nails into the perfect oval shape.

"Needed him for what?" Brennan asked.

"Protection."

"Zack is protecting the U.S. government? For some reason, that doesn't sit well with me. The kid can't even be still with a gun in his possession," Booth said.

"Not our protection—his," she said.

"Like, witness protection?" Brennan asked.

"Exactly, my dear," Janice said, putting her nail file down on the sofa next to her. "I couldn't just give it away, now could I?"

"Who is he hiding from?" Angela asked.

"The new Master," Janice said, a look of anger covering her face. It was clear that she had spent quite some time trying to put the guy away, just like they had for the previous one.

"No way," the entire team said in unison, excluding Wendell, for obvious reasons.

"I thought that sicko got shot in the raid!" Booth exclaimed.

"_He_ did. The _real_ man who killed The Lobbyist is the current Master, and he's who we're looking for," Janice said.

"Hey, hey, hey, Zack confessed to that murder," Booth said, trying not to let it show that he didn't believe Zack for one minute.

"Actually..." Sweets said, in a quiet voice, almost as if he was hoping that if he didn't speak up too loud that no one would hear him.

"What do you mean "actually"? Have you been hiding more stuff from us, because if you have I swear," Hodgins threatened.

"After he escaped the hospital last year..." Sweets explained. "I was hesitant to take him back into the hospital on my own...For obvious reasons...But he told me that he didn't actually kill anyone. He just told the real killer where to find the victim."

"Why didn't you tell us this?! A deranged lunatic is on the loose, and it's gotten bad enough that they're putting people who know about him into WITSEC!"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality!" Sweets exclaimed. "I couldn't even if I wanted to. And he said that Gorgamon killed the man who murdered the lobbyist so Zack could replace him."

"Well, that might be what Zack thought, but obviously, no," Janice said. "We put him into the system when a package delivered to the hospital meant to be delivered to Zack exploded in the holding room. We knew that he must be out for blood if he was willing to put himself in so much danger."

"How come Zack didn't tell many about any of this?" Sweets asked.

"By the time it started happening, he said that you had stopped visiting, and that he had a new shrink."

Hodgins glared at Sweets, and from the look on Sweets' face he could feel Hodgins' eyes stabbing him in the back of the neck.

"Where is Zack now?" Hodgins asked.

"He goes by Jack, now," Janice said, reaching into her briefcase to retrieve a manila folder and pulling his record out with her. "He lives in Chicago, and works at a book store."

"Wow, he's fallen pretty hard, hasn't he?" Wendell said, unaware that he was sounding cruel until the entire team's eyes glared at him.

"So is he out of the loony bin for good now?" Cam asked.

"Possibly. If he helps us retrieve the real killer and bring him to justice, I'm willing to make a deal that doesn't involve jail time. He seemed to make a big point about not spending time in jail."

"So you're going to let a convicted killer out on the streets?" Booth asked.

"First of all, Agent Booth: he passed the polygraph tests about not committing the murder. And second of all: you shouldn't be one to talk about letting convicted killers roam the streets, if you know what I mean," Janice said, edge in her tone.

Booth shrunk down into his chair and stayed quiet.

"So..." Cam said. "Can we see him? We can have security guarding him at all times and—"

"Oh, don't worry about security," Janice said. "He's being protected at all times, even down to the other "employees" at the book store. And...yes, I guessed you would ask that. I'm having someone bringing him down as we speak. He should be here within an hour and a half or so, if that's okay."

"Oh, definitely," Cam said. "No problem. Will he be coming with security?"

"I don't think he has much of a choice."

_See? I'm not the bad guy here, I'm saving him, don't worry. :D Next chapter we get the big reunion, so please, please, please review for it. :) The quote at the top is from Abraham Lincoln. Sorry if my facts about the WPP are wrong, I didn't have much time to research the subject. D:_

_P.S.: Hart Hanson: Don't shoot! I'm not taking your work, I promise. So far, my only original character is District Attorney Janice Collins. And in return, you can borrow her, too._


	4. Chapter Three

_**The Intern in the Institution: Chapter Three**_

_All the time that you were gone, I thought about how_

_things went wrong, now you're coming down to earth_

_okay—hello—welcome to the, welcome to the world_

"Yeah, yeah," Janice said, holding the phone to her cheek with her shoulder, and still filing her nails. Hodgins was beginning to suspect that it was some kind of nervous tick, because she sure as hell liked to do it. "Okay, yeah, we're ready. Just tell him to calm down, that nobody's mad at him, and that this is what he always talked about. I don't care if he keeps threatening to tuck and roll out of the car, you know he won't do it. Yeah, okay, see you in a bit."

"Is everything okay?" Cam asked, handing Janice a paper cup filled with water. "Sorry it's not exactly champagne—this isn't exactly Carnegie Hall."

"No problem, I was raised off of paper cups and plates and plastic silverware. I can manage," she took the cup and for once put the damned nail file down. Hodgins was tempted to grab it and snap it in half, but wasn't sure if see would go batshit and try to fill harassment charges against him. "And yeah, just peachy."

"Tuck and roll?" Wendell questioned.

"Yeah, open the car door, make a ball and roll out of the car. Tuck and roll," Angela stated, matter of factly. "I've done it about half a dozen times. At least."

Awkward silence filled the room. Not because of Angela's comment, but more because the reality was setting in that Zack, their beloved lab assistant turned forensic anthropologist was coming back to the lab to have one last hurrah with them.

Well, doing that while trying to maintain his safety.

"Okay, okay, I'll say it," Hodgins said, breaking the ice. "I'm _just _a_ little_ bit excited."

"Well, stay excited, he's in the building and walking up the hall," Janice said. "Try to remember that he's supposed to be someone else, so we've changed his look up a little. Not much though, no worries."

She spoke with hesitation in her voice, almost as if she was worried he would walk in right when she was talking about him.

That would be more awkward than the five minutes of total silence they had earlier after Angela's decorated explanation of the "Tuck and Roll".

Slowly, three men dressed in suit entered the room. One was tall and thin, the others were bulky and sturdy-looking. A fourth followed, easing a young man into the room as well.

The man had jet black hair and a small stature; he was dressed in almost all black, right down to the raggedy pair of converse that he walked uncomfortably in.

The fourth guard gestured to them, signaling them to separate and let the smaller man, now known as their Zackaroni, see his old friends.

"H—hi, everyone," he said, walking towards them almost uncertainly. He looked like he was trying his hardest not to shake, but it obviously wasn't working.

Angela looked over at Cam and Janice, who were leaning back on the poles surrounding the main area of the lab. She was obviously looking for some kind of signal on what she should call him.

"This is a safe zone," Janice said. "We've had the place looked over inside and out at least four times. And we have the four stooges over there to protect him. You can call him Zack."

"There were actually only three stooges," Brennan said.

"Okay, someone needs to get this girl a sarcasm meter," Janice said.

Janice shot a joking glance at Brennan, who didn't seem to catch that either. "Oh, god."

"Zack! It's so good to have to you back!" Angela said, pulling him into a warm embrace and ignoring the playful one-sided banter that Janice was having with Brennan. Normally he would be mildly uncomfortable being hugged this tightly, but at the moment, he actually decided to hug back for a change.

"The king of the lab is back in business!" Hodgins said, patting him on the shoulder. "Nice hair, by the way."

Zack was grateful that at the moment they weren't too keen on acting like anything was different than it had been before he left for the hospital a year and a half ago. He already had enough people talking about that to him.

"Why black?" Hodgins asked him, running his fingers through Zack's hair, as if he needed some kind of reassurance that Zack's hair was dyed and he wasn't just wearing a really realistic looking wig. That was the conspiracy theorist in him.

"It's not black. It's dark, dark brown," Zack said, in an insecure tone, like he couldn't handle his hair being black and instead it was just a shade lighter than black.

"Dude, that's black," he said.

"No it isn't."

"Yes. Yes it is."

"No. No it isn't."

"Okay, whatever, but you didn't answer my question: why would you dye your hair black. I never thought you the type to go dark," Hodgins said.

"It fits in with Jack's persona," Zack said, knowingly. "He's a book store clerk."

"A gothic bookstore?" Booth asked, waking up after he had dozed off from the snooze-fest that was Jack and Zack's conversation.

"Yes."

"Why would you pick Jack as a new name? That's my name, dude."

"I didn't pick it, Janice did," Zack said. "And it's one letter off from my own name."

"Your name is Zackary."

"Stop cutting corners."

Cam walked up to Zack and hugged him. Truth be told, although she only knew him for a short time before he left, the former lab assistant grew on him.

"Nice to see you again," Cam said.

"I never have formerly introduced myself," Wendell said, while attempting to shake Zack's hand. Zack wasn't quite as open to touching someone he didn't know, so he closed his hand into a tight fist and tried to move back a bit.

"I'm Wendell. And you're a bit touchy."

"I don't know who 'A Bit Touchy' is, but I'm Zack. Nice to meet you," Zack said.

"Junior squint," Booth said, walking towards him, "This place hasn't been anything without it's bone man."

"I thought you said I was annoying and couldn't take a joke," Zack said.

"That was the joke. And you didn't catch it. Again," Booth said.

"Oh, I see. Ha ha ha?" Zack said, as he fiddled with his black hoodie.

"Do you want a pair of new clothes?" Angela asked. His clothes looked tight and uncomfortable to everyone around him, but he didn't seem to care.

"No, I think they fit quite well. Thank you, though, Angela," Zack said.

"Why'd you do that?" Angela asked.

"Do what?"

"Say my name after you said "thank you"? It sounded out of place," she asked.

"Well, I learned while working at the bookstore that people like to hear their own name spoken back to them in conversation. It's an ego thing. And because I was turning down your favor of new attire, I thought it was the least I could do."

"And despite the cool clothing, you're still the same old Zackaroni," Hodgins said, a large grin growing on his face.

"Clothes don't typically alter someone's personality," Zack said. "You should know that Hodgins. When you dress in your work clothes, you're still the same Hodgins that likes to blow things up at home. You do that while you're here, too."

"Oh, god."

"There isn't one."

"Thanks, Zack."

"Should we go discuss the case fully in a smaller secluded area within the Jeffersonian?" Janice said, gesturing to the guards that they should follow her.

"Okay, everyone into Sweets' office," Brennan shouted. Other employees at the Jeffersonian turned as if to ask if that included them too. "Oh, I mean, everyone who knows a lot about the recent happenings, into Sweets' office. So, us. Sorry."

As they walked into the office, Sweets decided to complain once more.

"Again? My office? Come on," Sweets whined.

"Okay, Sweets, we get it, you don't like people in your office."

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"Okay, prepare for a series of questions," Hodgins said.

"Okay then."

"So, where have you been living?" Hodgins asked.

"Chicago."

"Where have you been working?"

"The bookstore on Roosevelt."

"What is the name of your bookstore?"

"Well, it isn't mine, exactly, more like Mickey Ascott's. I'm just a clerk."

"What is the name of Mickey Ascott's bookstore?"

"As We Lay Dying."

"How heartwarming."

"That wasn't a question."

"I know."

"I've already told you the majority of this. Don't you want to know the actual substance of the case? Remember: if Dr. Addy helps us solve the case and put the real killer in prison, he will be let out of jail and the mental hospital with five years probation and 100 hours of community service," Janice said.

"Well, what do we have to go on here, Ms. Collins?" Booth asked.

"Well, if you talked to him about something other than where he's been working, you'd know. And: we have the body of someone who was probably killed by the new Master," she said.

"How do you know that?" Brennan asked.

"They had one of Zack's teeth. A canine. It was removed while Zack was Gorgomon's apprentice. We gave him a replacement."

"Oh."

"Well you would've known if you'd asked, now wouldn't you?"

"I'd assume yes, probably."

"Rhetorical question."

"Oh."

_Okay, reunion done. Sorry if it wasn't up to par with what you were expecting. It's really hard to write a chapter that you've been building up to. xD Next chapter will be shorter, but it's necessary to transition into the second half of the story. Review for it. :D_

_P.S.: I don't own anything except Janice and the bodyguards. For now. And I always say that, but this time, I mean it. :D_


End file.
